


Spiralling

by Sonzaishinai



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Superman (Comics), Superman - All Media Types, Superman/Batman (Comics)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Deepthroating, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Undertones, Fingering, Identity Porn, M/M, PWP, Porn What Plot, Porn Without Plot, Safewords, Secret Identity, Smut, unused safewords
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 05:42:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17360114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonzaishinai/pseuds/Sonzaishinai
Summary: Bruce Wayne walks into a club late at night, identity hidden whilst in search of a partner to take to bed.





	Spiralling

**Author's Note:**

> I vent wrote this at 3AM at the west coast because I got stuck in writing Stalemate. Enjoy, I guess, cuz I rlly suck at smut.
> 
> Also this isn't beta'd

Entering the crowded club with only the bright, flashing overhead lights to guide his path, Bruce kept his head down, making straight for an obscure seat in the corners of the establishment albeit near the bar. Though it was darkened, he didn’t trust anyone who got close enough to not recognize him shuffling through the plethora of occupants. While he was a billionaire, it was ridiculous, the places he’d been recognized before. And tonight? He wanted to lay low, to just be given a chance to enjoy the night without being hoarded by admirers or the press.

 

In his dark corner, he scouted the room, not particularly setting his sights on anyone. For this night of self-indulging, he’d wait for someone else to come to him, preferably similarly unnoticed. 

 

Pleasantly, he didn’t have to wait long. From a distance, he locked eyes with a bright blue gaze, a hulking figure than soon began making its way over to him from several tables away. Without much lighting, Bruce couldn’t differentiate his features, but, looking closely with the brief glimpses that the moving, multi-colored overhead lights gave, it was evident that the man was broad in the shoulders and shielding his face with a hat. Unfortunately, the black knee-length trench-coat he wore hid whatever else he had kept under wraps, though the man was also clearly taller than Bruce.

 

Right as he began to close in, Bruce stood, falling into step beside the taller, hulking man who laid his hand against the small of Bruce’s back as they made their way towards the exit. Clearly, the guy was just as experienced as he in this act. That only left one question.

 

“Whose place will we be going to; mine or yours?” With the inquiry came a puff of breath into the shadowed streets.

 

The velvet voice, baritone with authority answered from above. “How about we go to yours? My last dance was at mine, and I rather be a gentleman.” Bruce could hear the smile bordering a smirk in his tone. Wordlessly, he nodded, taking the lead as they tread through the night towards a brightly lit, extravagant hotel on the corner of a street three blocks away. They’d lucked out for the night and, in the lobby, they found it empty, save for the receptionist and passing workers. With a flick of the wrist, Bruce showed his room key to avoid approaching staff, and the two men bypassed the pungent casino area to head towards the hotel rooms. 

 

A push of a button in the elevator and the duo were soon headed towards the topmost penthouse suite. Noticing the slight startle in the man behind him, who had to yet see his face as did he, he gave a reassuring caress on the hand he was holding. The ride went without a hitch and, with the twist of a room key for confirmation, they were walking into the wide, deserted and darkened room of none other than Bruce Wayne’s penthouse. 

 

Turning after he stripped himself of the hat and his own coat, Bruce planted a quick kiss on the startled man’s cheek, noting the brightness of the blue eyes before tiptoeing to whisper in his ear, “Keep a secret for me, why don’t you, darling?”

 

A huff and the feel of the growing smirk was all he needed for confirmation and he was throwing his accessories against the dining table seats, stripping himself of his shoes and socks as he went before heading towards the bedroom, his guest sharp on his heels and having yet to remove his own clothing.

 

With the confidence of a Greek god, Bruce strolled into the moon-illuminated room still wearing his gray slacks and began unbuttoning his Stefano Ricci tuxedo shirt underneath; a bit overkill for not really suiting up, but he’d come out of his penthouse which typically stored clothing for social events, so he couldn’t really do much. Just before his hands could fully unbutton the collar piece, though, devoid of a tie or anything of the sorts, his guests’ massive hands came up to his, pausing him in his tracks as the man smothered his protests with a soul wrenching kiss, biting at his bottom lip when he pulled away, arms and face alike.   
  


(In a vague, suppressed part of Bruce’s mind, alarms screeched with familiarity, but he couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to them at the moment.)

 

“Let me be the one to strip you, babe,” the man said, voice deep and heavy with lust. It was incomparably rough, more so than Bruce’s own when he masqueraded as Batman, and sent rippling chills of pleasure down his spine. Knees nearly sent buckling, Bruce leaned against the man’s chest, undeniably solid and chiselled beneath the bulky trenchcoat. To keep himself upright, he wrapped his own muscled arms around his guest’s neck, the man surprisingly not toppling, nor budging under his weight.

 

With a hot breath of exhalation, Bruce whispered, “Be my guest, darling,” and relished the stillness of the man under his hands before a whirlwind seemed to deposit him on his lush bed draped in soft pillows and plush blankets. Fuck asking how he did that, Bruce was too hard to even grasp at a solid thought. The act of being manhandled so effortlessly made electricity shoot through him with a helpless, submissive thrill he was unfamiliar with. In his belly down landing, as well, his bulging crotch had rubbed against the sheets before he skidded to a stop against the solid mattress.

 

“C’mon, babe,” he heard murmured somewhere from behind him before the massive hands from earlier, as hot as a furnace, came pressing down on the small of his back and atop his ass. With no pause between contact, the hands were suddenly shoving him down onto the mattress, grounding his crotch against the the dual sensation of his silky slacks and sinking blankets. With it, the delicious friction similar to the one he felt at being skidded across the mattress reignited, pulsing waves of pleasure making him jerky and desperate to get out from under the hands. No matter what he did, though, the firm hold kept him from thrashing, and the continuous grounding of his hips had him twisting like he’d been shocked with a live wire.

 

Eyes askew and mouth wide with silent screams at the virgin sensations, Bruce began begging. “N-No!!” he gasped with what breath he could gather in his lungs. “G-Gonna…! Pl-Please!! I’m gonna cum- ff-ffuuu- G’nnacumg’nnacum-” His repetition was cut off with a high pitched wail he’d never heard come out of his mouth before and the delicious friction was suddenly ripped away with a stomach churning turn of his body, leaving him with an unbearable desperation. The whine was even more unexpected, Bruce’s face lighting with shame right after.

 

Atop him, his guest had gotten rid of the hat and coat, leaving him in a tight, opaque white dress shirt that must have cost about sixty bucks at the most. Eyes drifting downwards to look away from the horrid shirt, Bruce flinched with alarm and pleasant surprise, the crotch now visible with the owner having planted himself between Bruce’s legs bulging with need. In fact, if Bruce was seeing this right, the enormous rise was leading to tears in the threads or the button at the waistline, but he couldn’t really tell what with his eyes being blurred from lustful tears.

 

A wet sensation came against his shuttered eye, licking off the tears that’d gathered in their corners and cooling his face, reddened with the exertion and sheer need that sent his pulse skyrocketing. Between his own legs, his dick was throbbing, twitching, even, against its confines as it remembered the newly introduced experience with fresh clarity and wanted more.

 

Distantly, he heard more murmurs against his ear, trying his best to focus on them. “Huh?” he breathed out.

 

“A word, babe. Gimme a word,” in between the licks. “Any word that you can use when you want me to stop.”

 

Still coming down from the near orgasmic high, Bruce grasped at straws, blurting out the first thing that swivelled with desperation to get down to business. “Seven.”

 

“Seven?” Bruce gasped as teeth nibbled on a sensitive point under his jaw that he never even knew he had. “Hm- M’kay. That’ll work. Seven, or four taps anywhere on me.”

 

A warm hand pressed down on his dick through his slacks again, and Bruce was letting out a pathetic whimper, eyes rolling back into his head as his mouth stretched with the pretty sounds he let out of his mouth. His legs were spread wide to accommodate the man planted between them, the man’s own thighs underneath his and crotch rubbing against his raised ass, grinding furiously and sending Bruce’s head back, also baring his throat. “F-Fuuu-!”

 

A slap resounded through the room, delivered against the inside of his thigh and sending his hips bucking up in the direction of the ceiling. Whatever moan Bruce was trying to suppress was forced out of his larynx, sound garbled with a long suffering whine.

 

He was cumming. By fuck, he was cumming, and he hadn’t even let his cock free of his slacks yet. Crushed against the warmth of his partner’s hand and coupled with the sensations originating from his neck and ass, his scream came out soundless and left him heaving. The hand was still rubbing his dick, slacks and underwear now embarrassingly wet and a finger pressing on his perineum through the cloth. The overstimulation was unbearable; unescapable. Positioned immobile, Bruce was thrashing breathlessly for god knows how long until the hand drew back. Even when it left, though, the ghost of its touch lingered, and he lowered his strained legs to plant the feet facing outwards. Meanwhile, the arms that’d been flailing rested above his head and atop his forehead, as there was more than enough space to accommodate both of the hulking adults on the bed. Whatever compelled the man to leave him be and allow him to heave in gulping breaths of air, he was thankful for it.

 

When he came down from the high, he opened his left eye a slit, peering up at his partner who sat tall on his knees. His face had Bruce rising again, though, the man’s eyes darkened further with his furrowed brows and seductive smile pulled up with teeth biting his bottom lip; it was hunger incarnated and Bruce let loose a low whine with the sight of it. The man only chuckled delightfully.

 

“Strip, babe.”

 

The baritone voice was now hoarse, throat leaving the words scratchy and rough and Bruce flinched with them. “Heh- I- I thought you said th- that was your… job,” Bruce heaved.

 

Looming over him, leaning his weight onto the hands planted beside the sensitive body, he said, again, “Strip.” He paused, and then smirked devilishly, moonlight glinting against his gelled back hair. “Strip… or I’ll leave this place without shoving my fat cock up your ass, Wayne.”

 

Bruce froze, breath hitching as he grew hot.

 

“Well?” The man cocked his head. “Are. You. Going. To disobey. Me?”

 

Bruce jumped into action, the emphasis on the man’s words sending him fumbling like he never had before as he struggled to unbutton his tuxedo shirt with fear and lust tingling down his spine and down to his crotch, dick steadily rising in the sticky mess that was his briefs. 

 

Right when he finished with the last button, the man shuffled back and off the bed. Confused, Bruce stayed still, though it was short-lived. Hands darting down the bed again, Bruce’s head was sent reeling when all two hundred and ten pounds of compact muscle that constituted him were easily dragged towards the edge of the bed, his bum resting atop the frame. Before he could register what’d happened, hands were grasping at his waistband, digging under the cloth and keeping a solid grip. Without warning, a rip resounded through the room, Bruce’s slacks and briefs alike discarded behind the man and leaving him naked on the bed. 

 

Red from the tips of his ears down to his chest, Bruce’s rock hard dick, stained with drying cum became exposed to the open air of the room. In front of him, the man ripped off his own shirt and belt, dropping down his slacks and underwear to the floor to present his own gigantic erection, standing tall and proud. Scared, almost, Bruce noted that its girth and length was greater than his, the delicious cock fat around the base and veins prominently rushing with blood. The head of the cock was purple, almost as if to convey the need its owner felt. His sharp inhalation didn’t go unnoticed and Bruce horrifically noticed how it twitched as if the ego boost could make him any harder.

 

The man stepped back and out of the slacks, almost as if to say “Well?”. Bruce knew full well what he wanted. Instead, though, he just gawked at him. He expected him to swallow that monster down? There’s no fucking way he could fit down half of it down his throat. No way, no how.

 

A twitch of the brows seemed to change the man’s expression entirely, though, and Bruce went down onto his knees, face before the giant and eyes crossed to take in the sight of it, mouth still slightly parted with awe and fear. Underneath him, the man’s discarded slacks itched, and Bruce stalled by picking it from underneath him and discarding it to the side but returned face to face with the man grasping his solid hard dick, pointing it towards Bruce’s mouth.

 

“Remember,” the voice came tauntingly from above, “four taps anyways on me if you want me to stop.” Bruce nodded, lightheaded with the thought of swallowing the dick.

 

Nervously, he leaned forward, tongue lapping at the cockhead with uncertainty. Shivering with impatience, the man nudged his lips again with his dick, prompting Bruce to take the head into his mouth before pausing and then continuing, pushing his mouth down further and further onto the erection. When the cockhead touched the back of his throat, he barely had half of the thick meat down, setting that as his limit with his inexperience. He pulled back, eyes trained on the dick glistening with saliva before taking the dick down his throat again, the man’s hands resting on Bruce’s shoulders, tightening their hold correspondingly with Bruce’s swallowing.

 

Apparently, though, he was dissatisfied with the pace, though having mercifully left Bruce several chances himself to adjust to the dick in his mouth. With his hands slowly sliding up Bruce’s nape, tracing the vertebrae, he began combing fingers through the hair, thumbs massaging Bruce’s temples as he stared up at the man’s eyes with his own wide ones. 

 

Suddenly, the fingers twisted viciously into Bruce’s hair, the meat of his hand clenched atop Bruce’s ears and squeezing his head. Bruce, still staring up into his partner’s eyes, barely managed to gasp in a necessary breath of air before his head was roughly yanked forward onto the massive dick, tongue flailing against the large intrusion. The choking sensation was brief, the shoving pushing the limits of what he could take as his head was grasped harder. Without reprieve, he was bobbed up and down the dick, taking it further and further each time.

 

Soon enough, he reached the bottom, the fat girth stretching his lips wide. The hands tangled in his silky soft hair shook him left and right to get it down further. At this point, tears from the strain adorned his cheeks, but he kept his determination, hands scrambling for a hold on the man’s thighs. The rough manhandling was more impactful than he’d thought, and with the shove and pull of his bed partner, his hardened prick swung between his legs, his own thighs slick with precum.

 

Serving mercy, the man pulled Bruce’s head off of his dick and he only gave a small smile at Bruce’s dazed look, breath coming in at intervals. While Bruce sat distracted, he wiggled his thumb between the parted lips, leveraging the jaw open in a grip that didn’t let it close. “Deep breaths, babe, you’re gonna need them.”

 

With no indication, Bruce was suddenly shoved back onto the fat cock, nose against the man’s hip as he gagged on the erection, his warm swallows massaging the dick and drawing sweet moans from the man above him. 

 

A hand at the back of Bruce’s head, Bruce was soon swallowing down a rush of warm, bitter fluid, the aforementioned hand refusing to let him back away as the overflow in semen spilled past his jerking lips and dribbled down his chin. A push down the back of his spine and he was gluing himself to the man’s leg, seeking friction by rubbing against the solid muscle of his shin and causing pulsing pleasure to resonate through him.

 

When the flow stop, Bruce was pulled away, gasping for air in quick, giant bursts, greedily replacing his lungs with the oxygen. From his lips, more cum dribbled, the removal of the delicious cock like a cork letting loose the contents of a bottle. Before him, the magnificent erection still stood tall, and a hand came down to wipe at his lips while he stared at the dick. In his semi catatonic state, the scooped up cum was shoved back between his teeth roughly, another hand at his jaw to keep it open while he swallowed, his eyes glazed over and rolling into the back of his head with pleasure.

 

A shake of the leg later to dislodge Bruce from his leg, and the man was hauling him back onto the bed, hands having a hold behind Bruce’s back and at the back of his thighs, fingers digging sharply into his asscheeck. At being deposited, Bruce was shaken from his stupor, the soft bedding underneath his back absorbing the sweat that’d accumulated on him.

 

Beyond where he could see, he heard the faint rustling of items in the bedside table, something heavy getting planted by the lamp. More rustling, a scratch of the head, and a sliding of the drawer and Bruce’s guest was back in sight, holding a half emptied bottle of lubricant in his left hand as he pulled Bruce up the bed single-handedly.

 

“Got any condoms, Bruce?” He didn’t mind the sudden change in address. He did take a while to respond, though, still trying to ground himself in his surroundings.

 

“N-No, but I’m clean.” The stutter in his voice was evidence that he was losing his control and, honestly? His body found it hot, turning him on further with his prick still aching for a touch after the rubbing. Subconsciously, he brought his hand down to jack himself off, only to find it slapped away and held beside his head, the man now looming over him atop the bed. In his other hand, a slick shine caught Bruce’s eye, and it soon drifted down to its owner’s erection to pump lightly, coating the monstrous thing in lube. 

 

“Kal.”

 

Bruce blinked. “W-What?”

 

A nervous gleam in the man’s eyes, and he repeated himself. “Kal. You can call me Kal, if you’re one to scream their partner’s name.” 

 

Out of it, Bruce only nodded in response and, again, Kal reminded him of his safeword just in case.

 

The press of the bulbous head came against Bruce’s entrance, and he was scrambling, hand reaching for the shoulder and stretching his pinned arm uncomfortably. “W-Wait! Y-You aren’t gonna prep me?!”

 

“Do you want me to?” The blue eyes stared up at him from under the brows furrowed with lust and his heart leapt before he answered back.

 

“N-no. Do whatever you want,” and a seductive smile back, and Bruce was being impaled on the heated cock. Dry with only lubrication and cum on Kal’s dick to ease the intrusion, Bruce arched on the bed, hand tightening its hold on Kal’s shoulder. The pain shot through him, though not overtly unbearable and left a burning sensation that only served to harden him further. 

 

A rough shove forward or two, and Kal was bottoming out inside of Bruce, his thick cock stretching the rim of his asshole and leaving Bruce fuller than he’d ever felt before, mouth slack with shock. Without waiting for Bruce to adjust, he began to piston his hips, slow and steady, pulling out till the tip and pushing back in gently, Bruce’s walls parting for him and squeezing tight with strangeness.

 

For several thrusts, the man kept adjusting his angle, Bruce perceived, barely able to note anything past the fact that there was a satisfying burn and the slap of flesh on flesh. When he suddenly jackhammered upwards, a loud moan was ripped from his throat; Kal had found what he was looking for. Now at the man’s mercy, Bruce was grinding back against him, trying to sync with the thrusts that accelerated quickly and pushed at his insides, hitting his prostate dead on. 

  
“Kal! Kal! F-Fuck!! Oh god!! Fuck me!!” Bruce sobbed, tears of pleasure leaking from the corners of his eyes. Kal was pistoning in and out of him, the pace too quick for him to handle as the man grunted above him without shame. With his free hand, the man lifted Bruce’s thigh, hooking it in the crevice of his knee and shoving it up to Bruce’s chest, impressed with the flexibility. With the change came deeper thrusting, and Bruce was screaming with ecstasy, Kal’s dick reaching deeper than anyone had ever gone before and harshly brushing his prostate with a ferocity unrivalled. 

 

Caught in a frenzy under Kal, moaning and cracking at the seams, Kal let go of his pinned hand and brought it down between them, ghosting over Bruce’s leaking prick and resting on his abdomen. Snapping his head up, Bruce rested his forehead against Kal’s, sharing sloppy kisses with the man with eyes closed shut and Bruce choking on the faint taste of semen and saliva entering his oral cavity while thrusts that shook Bruce to his core continued to leave him gasping and screaming profanities, dick getting barely any satisfying friction from bouncing against his top’s chiselled abdomen. God, getting fucked senseless by a man that towered over him and manhandled him just the way he needed it; Bruce was fucking losing it. He was losing it, losing control and he fucking loved it. “K-Kal!! KAL!! H-HARDER!!” he sobbed again joyously, breath mingling with the snarls and possessive growls of the man above him.

 

When a pressure started growing on his abdomen, Bruce couldn’t help but look down to where Kal’s thick cock was jack hammering into his reddened ass, the hand on his abdomen pressing down and oh- fuck, the pressure was enhancing the experience and- god- fuck- 

 

“Oh!!” Bruce screamed. “Oh god!! OH GOD! OH SHIT!! FUCK FUCK FUCKFUCKFUC-” cut off by a high whine, the sensation of his prostate being relentlessly stimulated coupled with the sight of the huge dick bulging underneath his skin becoming too much, all whilst the semen he’d swallowed earlier jiggled in his stomach. He was cumming- He was cumming and he couldn’t stop, oh god, his pelvis was thrusting up to get more of that magnificent dick and it just wasn’t stopping. His own erection refused to abate and, if anything, he’d now become hypersensitive to every thrust, the hand on his abdomen leaving in favor of his other leg, hooking the hand underneath the crevice in a similar fashion to spread Bruce wide before Kal, who fucked him like a man possessed and groaned Bruce’s name with a throaty, rumbling voice that shook his own ribcage.

 

“KAL!! FUUUUCK!!! OH FUCKK!!” If Bruce noticed the wetness of his cheeks, practically aflame, he didn’t give any consideration. In desperation, he had looped his arms around the solid neck, now chest to chest with Kal as he carolled his delight and ground against the muscle that was Kal’s stomach. When Bruce was unbearably close once more, Kal pulled himself free, grabbing Bruce by the hair as he turned and leaned his back against the headboard before depositing Bruce onto his lap. In seconds, he had his hand on his cock again, guiding it into Bruce’s loose asshole and jack knifing up to meet Bruce’s fall, drawing a silent scream from the man’s mouth when he came unexpectedly, Kal humming in pleasure. 

 

Without any lapse in concentration, Kal built up his pace again, shoving deep and hard into Bruce’s depths with every thrust as the man’s back arched in overwhelming pleasure and joy, broken screams directed at the ceiling. 

 

“OH GOD!! HA-HARDER!! FUUUUCK ME!! YES!!! YES!! FUCK!! OH GOD!! IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS SO FUCKING GOOD!! YES!! PLEASE, FUCK ME HARDER, RIGHT THERE KAL!! FUUUCK!!!”

 

Bruce was fucking debauched to hell and back, sweat dripping down in rivulets and body red with exertion. His back seemed to bend at inhumane angles as Kal aimed to deliver, and his face was distorted, eyes wide and pupils rolling back deep while his sweet, swollen lips screamed for Kal. 

 

Grabbing onto Bruce’s hips, Kal pushed in and out with however much force he thought was safe, pleasure grasping both men in a vice grip as Kal’s cum gushed out a second time that night, spurting all over his crotch and Bruce’s ass as he continued to fuck the billionaire silly through his orgasm. When it was over, Bruce shot to hell, hair in disarray and body littered with bruises, he pulled out and dropped him against the bed, his semen flowing out of the stretched, pink hole before his shoved two fingers into the cavity. Using his free hand, he pulled Bruce up flush against his chest again, kissing the soft lips furiously and biting, spitting into the man’s mouth and watching his choke on his saliva as he pulled the head back to expose his throat when the fingers shoved deep inside the man began twisting and curling in a come hither motion way that rubbed firmly against Bruce’s prostate. Screams continued to fill the room, Kal grinding against Bruce’s dick pulsing with blood, and in seconds, both men were ejaculating, coating their abdomens in the white, sticky turbidity that was notably more plentiful from Kal. 

 

Heavier, Kal collapsed forward onto Bruce, now laying between the man’s legs atop him. In the dark, they both heaved, chests rising against and with one another as they regained all sense of self. Eventually, though, Kal noticed that Bruce’s breathing evened out into a steady pattern; exhausted, billionaire had fallen asleep. Under the moonlight, Kal pulled back from the crook of Bruce’s neck and stared in silence as Bruce continued on obliviously in dreamland, his form looking many times more innocent and youthful in spite of what had gone on in that room tonight.

 

Thinking back, Kal brought up the fresh memories of Bruce, neck straining as he screamed with mighty pleasure, the ecstasy and adrenaline coursing through their veins without pause. A lick of his lips, and Kal found himself hard again from the images of the beautiful man alone. No one he’d encountered before came as close to looking seductive and innocent all the same; not to the extent that Bruce had. Maybe if he was lucky, he’d strike out again, if he visited the same bar again. But for now, he had a lot of cleaning up to do.

 

Ruffling his gelled hair back into place and thanking the shadows that helped shield his poorly hidden, popular alter-ego, Kal took to fixing back his clothing and tucking Bruce into bed.

 

Before he left, he took one more look down at the unconscious man, pride swelling at how his efforts had gone and an ego boost rising from the sight of cum and purpling bruises in the shape of his hands littering the billionaire’s body.

 

The next time Bruce Wayne and “Kal” would meet, it was a couple days later for a scheduled interview Bruce had had with a Daily Planet Reporter he only knew as Clark Kent. With the shake of a hand in his office, though, Bruce had experienced the dawning realization of the mystery man who’d left him spinning with pleasure that one night in Gotham.

 

From there, who knows where the story goes.

**Author's Note:**

> I vent wrote this at 3AM at the west coast because I got stuck in writing Stalemate. Enjoy, I guess, cuz I rlly suck at smut.
> 
> ALso this isn't beta'd


End file.
